Shadows of the Veil
by Nyric
Summary: A newly-Awakened struggles to balance his newfound magic, his curiosity and interest in the occult, and his own hubris.
1. Prologue

The idea of _magic_ , the idea that the laws that governed the world could be bent in one's favor by way of supernatural means, has persisted throughout the ages: the _kahunas_ of Hawaii, with the power to walk across blazing lava without harm or fear; the _Oracle of Delphi,_ divinely inspired by the Greek god Apollo with visions of the future; the witches of the early Middle Ages, guilty of curses and consorting with demons in exchange for unnatural power. The idea of magic has faded in this more modern society, but there are some that still believe. These believers can range from the teenage Satanist, who dabbles in the occult as a futile act of rebellion, to the wannabe New Age mystic, who peddles "healing crystals" to desperate wives that seek to calm their gullible, neurotic minds. Fools, the whole lot of these so-called believers though there are nuggets of truth in their foolishness.

Walking across lava is a simple task with the appropriate skill. Prophecy is a skill theoretically available to all mages with the proper training and power. Curses can be rather nasty things to tangle with. Certain materials, crystals included, do have occult significance in rituals. Demons exist, deep within our souls and far divorced from reality, stalking its outer edges. Mark these words: magic, _true_ _magic_ , exists. True magic draws down the laws and truth of the upper echelons of reality and enforces them onto the mutilated shell of a universe we perceive, but, just as a rebellious youth will reject the authority of his elders simply because he hates higher authority itself, sometimes the lower reality we inhabit deems it well and good to _fight back_ against this higher truth in favor of the Lie of the unenlightened masses. True magic is a dangerous and fragile gamble at times, so easily frayed by the Lie perpetuated by the uninitiated, but it's a gamble well worth the risk.

Or, so I thought. Awakening, as we called it, came with its own share of problems. I believe it is best if I began from the beginning. My chosen Shadow Name is Dust, and I'm an Alchemist on the Path of Doom.


	2. Rude Awakening

My Awakening, the beginning of my life as a mage and the end of the normalcy I once knew, was the result of dangerous, rapacious curiosity. Since birth, I have always been more inquisitive than my peers. Always asking questions, annoying those around me, desperate to know the hows, the whys, the whats, the whens of the world and its ineffable ways. I would call myself a seeker of the truth, but the truth is often misused in such context. Truth used in such a way connotates _personal truth_ , a truth warped by personal biases and desires. I wanted the _truth of everything_ , a grand, unified truth that explained how all the strings tugged and pulled without the encroachment of human feelings and swayings. Both pursuits are the epitome of arrogance unless one first discards the assumption that they truly _know_ and _understand_ anything for certain. I was arrogant beyond words. I still am. Who among us may claim without irony that they are not?

For a while now, I have resented the palace of ivory the traditional sciences have built around themselves, high above the teeming masses who venerate the idea of science as a serf would venerate their feudal lords. Dictates issued without question and beyond censure. How dare you deny science? It is beyond reproach! No, true science is dead. It died long ago. Because of the rise of the cult of scientism, especially during my early college years, I soon turned my back on it in favor of applying the scientific method to the occult and esoteric, the areas modern science had long since shunned. I believe Shakespeare put it best, "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy". The main focus of my research was the soul. Did it exist? What were its properties? Could be measured in a quantitative way?

I used what little of my money that I could spare to hunt down and purchase various occult texts on the subject. In my free time between classes, I studied them extensively and jotted down notes. Some turned out to be useless New Age crap marketed off as something else, while the rest tended to be more useful. Not only did I purchase books, I sought out people and communities who could help further my understanding: mediums, fellow occult enthusiasts, the local Christian priesthood, etc.

That's how I came across him. I was exiting a local occult bookstore, The Crypt, which I had begun to frequent as a direct result of my new found passion. He looked normal, for all intents and purposes, but he made my hair stand on end and my skin squirm. He simply radiated unease, and yet there was a certain indescribable quality that drew us together. He claimed that he had been keeping track of my research. He couldn't have been more than my age. Well-kept short black hair, no gray hairs in sight. Clean-shaven. Modestly dressed. If we had met under any other circumstances, I doubt I would have remembered him at all. I was unaware at the time that he would be instrumental in my rebirth as a mage.

"Word has been spreading that you're invested into some rather unorthodox research currently. Traveling to and from hack mediums and self-proclaimed houses of the unknown and bizarre such as this one," he pointed back at the storefront. "Of course, some mean well, while others just intend to scam you."

Who was this mysterious man? How did he know about my research?

"I'm well aware on that last part, but who are you exactly? You seem wired into the local occult community, or you're just plain stalking me."

The man shrugged his shoulders and smiled goofily. It was a bit reassuring to see, but my discomfort did anything but melt away. Why did his exude this disquieting aura? Why was he here? My hands shook ever so slightly.

"You could say that I'm 'wired in', but I prefer to call it 'keeping track of promising young minds'. But, before we get into any of that, my name is Daniel," he outstretched his hand.

Like a fool, I shook it. A bloody, damned fool. Politeness had damned me the moment I made physical contact with him.

"What do you mean 'promising young minds'? You can't just walk out of the shadows, declare you've been watching me, and not offer explanations. Just spit it out already. I'm losing my patience."

"I suppose you're right. Explanations are in order. For starters, I'm a genuine mystic, and I make a habit of keeping eyes on those that I feel would make great pupils. When I caught wind you had been snooping around for information on souls, my specialty, I was naturally interested. Forgive me if you feel as though my actions are out of order, but you showed such promise that I felt that it was time that we finally met."

A genuine mystic, huh? My rapacious curiosity stole the reins from the rational portion of my mind that screamed at me to get away. I required proof of his powers. What exactly could he do? I needed something more than a common parlor trick to confirm his claims, and, yet, he resorted to mind reading; it was more than mere fakery, I can assure you. He took the uncertainty and need for confirmation plastered on my face as his cue. He began spouting off facts about my life, details, and feelings no living soul other than myself were aware of and some that were hidden even from myself. My first love and the subsequent heartache that ensued. My personal space, hidden from the world and my parents, that I would retreat to as a child. Feelings, powerful and overwhelming, that laid long dormant were described to me as though they were his own. It was as if he had taken a scalpel to my personal history and carefully studied its inner workings that lied behind its surface. Two decades worth of information poured over with a microscope and laid bare. The worst of it all was that damned smile, no longer goofy and unassuming. Keen and piercing. I wanted proof of his abilities, and I received it in full.

After a minute or so of awkward silence, I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Okay, I believe that you're a sorcerer. You said that you thought I showed promise and your specialty is souls. Can you help me in my search?

"Of course, that's why I sought you out. You're so close already, in fact. On the verge of Enlightenment. It's why I came."

From that point onward, I became his dedicated pupil. He told me that he was one of the Awakened, or a mage in other words and that I was a Sleeper, a normal human, on the verge of Awakening. Awakening is the process by which a Sleeper's soul crossed the void, traveled to one of five higher realities, the Supernal Realms, gleamed a bit of higher truth, and returned able to see through the Lie of reality and practice magic. These words made my heart jump with excitement. I, too, could be a mage and further my research! However, work was to be done to ease the burden of Awakening, he said. I soon learned that he was a Moros, or Necromancer, with power over shadows, decay, ghosts, as well as physical matter.

He tutored me on the five Supernal Realms, the ten Arcana, aspects of reality that governed our Fallen World and the Supernal, and the five Paths. The Aether, Kingdom of the Celestial Spheres and Abode of Angels, a realm of overwhelming energy, creation, destruction, and raw magic, ruled by Prime and Forces, and the Realm of Awakening for Obrimos Mages. Arcadia, Kingdom of Enchantment and Abode of the Fae, a realm of constant, transient change and mischievous time, ruled by Fate and Time, and the Realm of Awakening for Acanthus Mages. Pandemonium, Kingdom of Nightmares and Abode of Demons, a great, dark, winding maze populated by wily demons, ruled by Space and Mind, Realm of Awakening for Mastigos Mages. The Primal Wild, Kingdom of Totems and Abode of Beasts, a vast wilderness where great spirits live and exist within every phenomenon, ruled by Life and Spirit, and the Realm of Awakening for Thrysus Mages. Lastly, Stygia, Kingdom of Crypts and Abode of Shades, a quiet, dim graveyard where the wealth of the dead jut from the earth and shades walk, ruled by Death and Matter, and the Realm of Awakening for Moros Mages.

He educated me a bit on the history of magic. He claimed that mages were the heirs to the lost empire of Atlantis, which fell when greedy mages now-known as the Exarchs climbed to the Supernal on a Celestial Ladder and claimed godlike power for themselves and then shattering the ladder. Some Atlantean mages managed to ascend as well, known now as the Oracles and battled the Exarchs. This shattered the connection and the world, not just Atlantis, fell and the Abyss was born. The Abyss was a void, a gap between our world and the Supernal, where beasts of unreality roamed and were desperate to invade and devour or corrupt and multiply.

In this time that he referred to as "prep work", he refused to show me any magic. His justification was that, despite the fact that I was close to Awakening, I was still a Sleeper; Sleepers cause magic to go haywire in a sense, and, according to some philosophies, weaken it as a whole. Still, he taught me what he called holotropic breathing exercises. In essence, by regulating my breathing in the right fashion, I could alter my state of mind, meditate more easily, and even attain a sort of spiritual high. He also ordered that I kept a record of my dreams and jotting down each one immediately after waking up.

Over the course of weeks, my dreams became more and more troubling. I confronted Daniel about this.

"I continue to see visions of a dull land, where the shadows and the corpses of the dead walk through a rain of ashes. Mountains of precious metals circled by angels of death with the wings of ravens. I feel that I'm seeing the realm of Stygia in my dreams, but I'm not certain. The visions are clouded."

"Elaborate on your dreams. What are you doing in them? Does anyone or anything interact with you? How do you feel? Sit, sit, close your eyes, and tell me."

I took up a lotus position on the rug and closed my eyes.

"In the dreams, I'm walking along a great river of ash and liquid gold. It's a river of death, but I do not know its name. The dead walk amongst me, but not with me. Some stop and stare as if they are curious before going about their wanderings. After a bit of wandering along the river, one of the dead rises from beneath the ground in front of me. He's a skeleton adorned in precious jewels of all kinds with a crown atop his cracked skull. Two angels of death descend and bow behind him. Their beaming eyes of red are set on my soul. 'Have you cast it off, yet?' the corpse asks me. I reply, 'Cast what off? What do you mean?' He outstretches a bony finger and says, 'The coin in your hand, boy, it only weighs you down. Rid yourself of it or trade it in.' I feel a heaviness in my right hand, so I open my palm and see a perfectly circular coin of lead. 'How? Trade it in for what?' I ask the skeleton again. 'If you must ask, you have not glimpsed the truth and you still have fear in your heart. Leave my sight,' the skeleton replies. Then he crumbles into dust and I fall away, fall hard into my body."

Daniel was silent and pensive for a short time, quietly studying me and my dream. I shuffled around, fidgeting with the zipper on my jacket. After a couple minutes of silent intrigue, he spoke.

"Your feeling is spot-on: you are definitely having visions of Stygia in your dreams. I give it a couple days before you truly Awaken."

"What about the lead coin? And the skeletal king and the angels?"

"The Leaden Coin is usually more symbol than object when it comes to Supernal Visions. It represents some sort of burden in your life that you must let go of, something that you must accept and shed. When Moros Awaken, we symbolically transform the burden into a blessing, from lead into gold. The angels were Supernal entities, and the skeleton was some part of yourself that you must grapple with. I suggest you meditate on this more."

With that set and done, he called our sessions done until further notice. He sincerely wished for me to take the time and meditate on what the dream truly meant. What aspect of myself was weighing me down? What did I need to cast off to free myself? I had to carefully consider each word that the skeleton king and Daniel said. I needed to dig deep within myself and pick out my major flaws. It's never easy analyzing one's self so closely, picking out your own weaknesses and flaws. I sat on these thoughts when my mind wasn't occupied with coursework. Occasionally, I would ask my peers what they thought my worst flaw was. Naturally, they offered a variety of answers. After all, how well can you know another person? Their answers were just approximations, nothing concrete nor damning, but I found them to be great places to start. Six days after I had recounted my visions to Daniel, I Awakened.

Once again, I walked that great river of death, of ash and liquid gold, downriver. The river _was_ Stygia and it had many names and many guises: Xibalba, Styx, Hades, Gehenna, Duat, and so on. Snowflakes of ash lightly fell from the dull, cloudy sky, palely illuminated by a pathetic echo of the sun. The dead meander about, their shades and corpses stumbling through grand funerary temples stained with veins of platinum and gold and decorated by precious crystals. Reapers, with their vast tattered raven's wings, circled the peaks of mountains made of silver and diamond and dust. Once again, I came to the skeleton king and his two aides.

"Have you cast it off yet?" A hollow echo, a whistle of silent wind through bone, proceeded from his skull.

I grasped the lead coin tight in my hands.

"In truth, I...I had to look deep within myself to discover the truth of this lead coin. I discovered some things that were not easy to accept. It's not too easy to simply throw away or change parts of one's self. I realize that. I realize that this coin isn't necessarily the worst of me, but merely a portion holding me back. A portion I need to accept and then shed if I am to move forward with my new life. That part of me needs to die."

The king nocked his skull to the left.

"You have seen the truth of yourself, Mordecai," the king outstretched a bony finger. "Who am I? What is that coin?"

"You...You are my arrogance, but not the way we usually think of arrogance. I wanted to seek the truth, yet I narrowed my focus to the soul. I thought that cheap books and hack mediums might help me gain an understanding of the human soul, the most vital and mysterious aspect of us. In my quest, in my narrow-minded search, I cut myself off from the grand truth, the truth of everything. You and the coin are that arrogance, the inability to see that I was on the wrong path, but I see more clearly now, and I cast you off."

"Then cast us off. Let us perish so that you might claim your destiny."

I cast the coin into the great river and watched as it was swallowed by the viscous gold and ash. The skeletal king crumbled, his crown rusted, and his jewels broke. His attendants took off into the gray sky, and the way was made clear. I progressed downriver, and came upon a crypt of dark metal, illuminated by torches that shone with an otherworldly light. Upon this crypt were the names of others, names in many languages. The crypt called out to me in a faint, powerful whisper. This was my destiny, and I need only claim it. I pressed my fingers upon the walls of the crypt. At first, the walls were as solid as any metal, but they soon yielded and my fingertips became like chisels against marble. My name had been etched into the crypt, and Stygia fell away from me.

I soon awoke in my room. The world felt...wrong. It was a vague, horrifying wrongness that creeps and gnaws at the edges of the psyche. The air was thicker, heavier, putrid. It was so heavy. I felt barely able to breathe. The light was duller, less genuine, and the room felt painfully dark despite it being the afternoon. My eyes saw fakery and wrongness wherever they darted. My soul quivered in disgust at the world. I wanted to scream, scream until my lungs gave out, and scream some more long after the sound have left. This was what it was like to be aware of the Lie, of how fallen the world was from the grace of the Supernal. Existential dread, everything, everyone, feeling out of place. And, yet, I felt powerful as well. Power flowed through my mind, body, and soul. I was a mage! This elation was short-lived when I discovered Daniel was present in my room.

He had reverted back to the uneasy, shifty demeanor I had noticed upon our first meeting. His grin was malevolent. His eyes were dark and empty and focused not on me, but on my soul.

"Congratulations, you've finally Awakened. Now you're actually worth something to me."

I quickly got up from my meditative position and took up a defensive stance. My back was to the wall, making sure I faced him.

"How did you get into my room? And what do you mean? I thought we were master and apprentice, that you saw promise."

He paced around the room, gesturing grandly as he talked.

"Oh, I've found over the years that, with the right mental push, people just find me irresistible. Irresistible enough to let me waltz in here without incident and then forget I even existed. I never lied, by the way, I _did_ see potential in you. I saw it in your soul. You see, an Awakened soul is of greater use to me than a Sleeper soul. So, I patiently nudged you along to Awakening, played the mysterious yet helpful mentor, taught you the necessary Supernal secrets to spur you onwards. I need your soul, and, as a neophyte, there's not much you can do to stop me."

"So that's it? We're over and done? You think you're just going to tear my soul out and walk away with it? I don't think so!"

How _dare_ he think I was a mere stepping stone?! My hands balled into fists. My knuckles grew white. My soul flared outwardly, tinging the air with raw power.

"That's your problem, you think. You think in the wrong ways, about the wrong things. You're just going to end up wasting the gift of Awakening, so your soul is best left in my hands. I'll put it to proper use, researching things worth a damn. Your body, on the other hand, need not be alive or whole. You can submit now and I promise it'll be quick and painless -I'll even keep you around as my personal thrall- or you can continue to resist me and I'll reduce your body to a smoldering pile and tear your soul out after you die."

I was furious and defiant, but I knew my limits. There's no way I could take Daniel on in a fight, so I had to run. I had to run. I needed to run away! But my legs refused to answer me. My whole body was locked in place.

"Why can't I move my body," I struggled to spit out. "What..have you done to my body?!"

"Interesting spell, isn't it? It's a bit of Mind magic that prevents your brain from sending commands to the rest of your body, paralyzing you," he explained while closing the gap between us. "Now, hold still, this will sting a bit."

It was ironic: Awakening as a Necromancer, a Moros, only to have my soul ripped out and made into a mind-slave for the rest of my life, a living zombie. I didn't want to die so soon, not after glimpsing a bit of grand truth. I wanted to know it all, see it all. I had such a life to live now. His hand was only inches away from me now. It glowed with a dark energy. This was the hand of my fate, the hand that would render unto me soullessness and enslavement for the rest of my life. I couldn't bear it. I just couldn't. "Why me?" I asked myself.

A miracle happened. Daniel clutched his temples in pain and screamed out in agony. His invisible grip over my mind lessened, and I fell to the floor. He thrashed about and swatted at invisible enemies, frothing and screaming all the while. I felt a voice worm its way into my head, and the voice said, "Get out of the way, now!" I quickly hit the deck. No sooner, a giant wall of flame burst through my dorm and engulfed Daniel in an instant. The flames grazed me a bit, singing my eyebrows and the tips of my hair, but I was fine otherwise. I was covered in soot and sweat. I looked over and saw Daniel huffing and puffing where the flames tore through and consumed all in their path. His skin was badly burnt. Raw. Red. Black. Portions of his head were missing hair, and what little remained was singed and smoking. He writhed on the ground in such pain.

An older man, couldn't be more than 60, stood in the blackened doorway. He carried with him a cane. I took me a moment, but I knew who he was: the Dean of Students, Cyrus Wainwright.

"The Consilium has been hunting you for a while, Daniel. Your pride has gotten the better of you, fool. You let your guard down, and now you're paying the price," Mr. Wainwright spoke gravely.

"Shut...up," Daniel managed to dredge out of his mouth. After a direct blast like that, I was surprised he was still alive, let alone still able to speak. "You...old codgers, scared of...scared of..magic that challenges tradition. Pathetic."

Daniel slipped into a violently coughing fit. Wretching up blood and bile. Still, the hatred and humiliation never left his dark, empty eyes.

"Regardless of your views, you have broken the Lex Magica. You will be brought to justice, you will stand trial, and you will be executed by the Consilium for your crimes against the Awakened."

I saw briefly a flare from Daniel's soul. He was, no, he _had been_ preparing a spell this entire time, from the moment he regained his bearings. Mr. Wainwright saw it too, but he noticed it all too late. Just as the old man prepared a spell of his own, Daniel vanished into thin air. With Daniel gone, the old man turned his attention towards me. He bent down and helped me up.

"You have had a rough time of it, haven't you, Mr. Rowan? You've made an awful friend," he chuckled.

I was so horribly confused. Why was the Dean of Students, Cyrus Wainwright, here? Why was he a mage? What was the Consilium, the Lex Magica?

Reading my mind no doubt, he hushed me before I had the chance to speak. "I will answer all of your questions later, but, for now, let's get you to a safer place. We can discuss it all there."

I nodded my head in agreement.


	3. Fate's Spanner

The trip from my dorm room to wherever it was Mr. Wainwright had taken me was a blur. At first, I believed that it was simply the stress of Awakening combined with my near-death experience at the hands of my disgraced former mentor; I know now that he most likely utilized some sort of Mind spell on me to obscure and cloud my memory as to protect the secrecy of the location. Wherever he had taken me, it was certainly spacious and blindingly bright, but other details escape me. However, I knew that he kept his word. We talked at length about my situation and his.

"We are safe here, I can assure you. This is my personal Sanctum, tucked away from prying eyes and shielded against most magic. We may talk freely here," Mr. Wainwright said.

I had never gotten a good look at Mr. Wainwright until then. He still sported the jet black hair of his youth, with only a small streak of grey hair running down the middle of his head. Though few in number, his face and hands sported the telltale wrinkles of age. His deep blue eyes glowed with respect and personal austerity. His hands did not ache nor shake with the typical arthritis of those his age, instead his hands were perfectly calm and his fingers perfectly nimble. For a man of sixty, he wore his age, and he wore it well. I knew that he must have been a wise mage, a powerful one too, to have survived this long. He had the insight and answers that I needed so desperately.

"I have several questions. For starters, who exactly was Daniel and why did he want my soul? He mentioned that he needed an Awakened soul, that it was of 'greater use' than a Sleeper soul. What did he mean?" I gripped the chair cushion and squeezed it three times.

Mr. Wainwright took the chair opposite of me and stared me straight in the eyes as he replied, "Daniel is just a Shadow Name, a false identity we take on to hide our true ones. He was an Awakened who traveled down the Left-Hand Path, who practiced forbidden magic. Particularly, he was a member of the Cloud Infinite. They are a Legacy dedicated to using the minds and souls of others as a sort of backup processor to augment their own abilities. Such magic is obviously forbidden under threat of death and soul erasure."

"Back at the campus, you two spoke like you knew each other. You said that you had been hunting him."

"It's true: I and my fellow Guardians had been hunting Daniel down once we caught wind of reports of Sleepers missing their souls, all of them seeming to originate from the areas surrounding the campus. We did not know the exact cause of their missing souls nor that Daniel was the perpetrator, at first, and only had the reports and the general vicinity of the victims to go on. You, Mordecai, were instrumental in his downfall."

"What exactly do you mean? I did not even know that you were a mage, let alone that Daniel was some sort of soul thief. Explain it to me, please"

"You'll come to learn that in the Awakened world, eyes are _always_ on you, whether you are aware of it or not. I heard reports of your budding interest in the occult and had a hunch that you might lead us to the culprit, so I had you watched and followed. It could have been just a hunch, but I decided that we could not risk another victim. Once he revealed himself as a mage to you, we were suspicious of him. We closely monitored you both as best we could without tipping him off, but we could still not be certain. I hope you can understand: we had to catch him in act."

I cast my gaze down to my feet, staring idly at the polished hardwood floor beneath them. His plan made perfect sense to me: gather intelligence, lie in wait, catch the villain in his act, and then arrest him. Still, hearing those words aloud after what had happened brought my blood to a low boil. I tightened my hands into fists. I was not some pawn, moved about and positioned to lure the greedy into a trap!

"I could have very well ended up a soulless husk and that's all you have to say? That you hope I understand! How dare yo-" I was interrupted by the harsh sound of thunder.

When a Mage performs magic of any sort, a bit of the power that they wield leaks from their soul. This is known as a Mage's Nimbus, and a Nimbus varies from Mage to Mage, dependent on their personal style of magic as well as the Arcana they incorporate into their spells. What I bore witness to was Mr. Wainwright's Nimbus. An aura of cold, brilliant white fire enveloped him from head to toe. The flames flickered and licked the air and matter around them, but they did not consume nor burn whatever they touched. The discordant, booming sound of thunder echoed around us as though a storm was brewing within very walls. It was a terrifying and humbling sight, to say the least.

"Your anger is justified, neophyte, but you shall show me the proper respect nonetheless. If I had not taken the actions I did, you and who knows how many others would be soulless thralls under Daniel's iron grasp. Do _not_ presume to know better."

His voice was raised only slightly. Despite the harsh authority in his voice, his expression never changed. His eyes still gazed on with that same discerning, serious look. He was simply annoyed; I shuddered to imagine him when he was truly angry. The devastation he could wreak...After some consideration, I knew he was right. He had saved my life after all. What other way was there to prove Daniel's guilt? I barely knew how to utilize my magic, let alone conduct an investigation on a rogue mage. I was out of my depth. Despite knowing this, I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eye. That would take quite a bit of time.

"I apologize for my outburst...It was rude of me."

"I understand your frustration, but there is another lesson you must learn in this new and dangerous world. Patience and manners are everything. You'll never achieve anything without them. That being said, I believe we should move on to another topic. It seems we've exhausted this one."

I nodded my head in agreement. We would get no further if we continued on about the topic of Daniel. Daniel, what a bastard! Oh, how I wanted to find out everything about him and his motives, and hunt him down. Those days were a long ways away, I knew. I didn't know how to cast spells, and, even if I did, I was no match for him in my current state. I needed both knowledge and power if I were to confront Daniel and pay him back for his treachery.

"I have questions about you. If you don't mind, that is."

"I will answer your questions within reason. We all have our secrets after all."

"Yes, right. Who are you exactly? I find it hard to believe that a mage as powerful as you is just a Dean of Students at a local college."

"That's rather astute of you to ask. If you must know, Cyrus Wainwright is just one of my many identities, and it serves its purpose well. However, in the local mage community, most know respectfully refer to me Enoch, one of the five Councilors of the Allentown Consilium. For now, you may choose to call me either name, but in the presence of others, you will call me Councilor Enoch."

Before I could ask him what the Consilium and Councilors were, he saw the confusion writ upon my face, and spoke up.

"A Consilium is simply a sort of local mage government. At its core, its functions are to hear and settle disputes between mages and their cabals, protect mages under its area of influence, and to interpret and enforce the Lex Magica, a body of magical law that determines which behavior is immoral and unwise among the Awakened. Councilors are the ones who arbitrate and resolve these disputes as well as enforce the Lex Magica. Above the Councilors is a single Hierarch who is the leader of the Consilium. In some Consilia, the Hierarch's word is final, while in others he holds considerably less power."

The concept of a secret society of mages was not surprising, but it fascinated me nonetheless. I wanted to know more. I opened my mouth to ask yet another question, but he simply waved his hand.

"You can ask more questions, later. For now, you must rest. I have petitioned for a Consilium meeting this weekend, and you will be its focus. You must be prepared to stand before all the other mages in the city, and I cannot have you unprepared for such a rare and serious occasion."

The floodgates of my curiosity had been loosened and my mind ran wild with a torrent of questions about what such a meeting would entail, but, once again knowing my intent, he waved me off. I sincerely was growing to hate that, but once again he was right: I was in no condition to stand in front of Lord-knows how many mages, at least not in a halfway decent manner; in short, I was a wreck. I needed some well-deserved sleep. I closed my mouth in reluctant agreement, while he smirked.

"Since the matter is settled, that brings us to the dilemma of your security..."

Later that night, I found myself in a luxurious hotel suite overlooking the Allentown skyline with two bodyguards posted outside my door. From what I gathered, the Atlantic Hotel was one of Mr. Wainright's, er...Enoch's, many strongholds within the city, and placing me here allowed him and his subordinates to guard (and surveil) my person at all times.

I did have a few objections however: I, a college student whose main fear (besides losing my soul to a depraved Reaper) was tuition payments, felt horribly out of place in a five-star hotel that catered to Allentown's elite socialites and the occasional C-list celebrity, and the sneering and jeering of the _crème de la crème_ of a minor metropolitan area only amplified this feeling. Regardless, Enoch insisted, that is to say commanded, I stayed at the Atlantic Hotel for my own protection. However, the view was beautiful.

I sighed as I collapsed into the king-size bed at the center of the room. My life had advanced considerably in the past couple of hours: I was no longer Mordecai Rowan, college student, but I had become Mordecai Rowan, college student _and_ neophyte mage. I tossed and turned. This elevation in status would haven been more...appreciated had it been more auspicious. I sighed once more. Focusing on the irreversible was pointless; the past was immutable, or so I thought. My efforts were better spent on my blossoming future, on my revenge.

A knock came at the door, followed by a gruff address.

"Dust, you have a visitor."

The doors opened and an unsettling man with jet black hair and scarlet eyes stood in the hallway. I quickly scrambled to my feet in an overly defensive frenzy (who would not be startled by a tall dark stranger with red eyes?), but the stranger waved me off, never once changing expression. He strode into the room, eyes roaming about, masterfully scanning over and inspecting everything within it. For a split second, his icy, calculated gaze fell upon me, and I felt a lurch in the pit of my soul.

"So, you are the one the Councilor is protecting. And you have taken the mantle of Dust..." his voice was barren of tone, frigid and stiff.

"And you are some...I want to say vampire, but my mythical bestiary hasn't been updated."

"Hilarious, neophyte, but a vampire would find a more appetizing meal at a biker bar. At least the meat there doesn't reek of instant noodles."

What was with mages and the word "neophyte"? If I had not known any better, I would have assumed it was some sort of slur. Fitting, mind you, but about as scathing as a pin prick.

"Well, then, mind introducing yourself before you spout cryptic nonsense? Kind of how social interaction works."

"Ah, how rude of me," he smirked, words still without emotion. "I am Eliphas, and I only came by to see the reason why the whole Consilium must be called to attendance this Saturday."

His scarlet eyes were staring straight through me; I toyed with the idea he _was_ gazing at my soul, but I quickly discarded it. I assumed he was sizing me up, pushing my buttons, testing me.

"Content with what you saw?" I spat.

"Not yet, but...you show potential. Perhaps we'll meet again on much more pleasant circumstances."

As quickly as he had arrived, he left the room with those words hanging in the air. After becoming a mage, did one's tendencies towards cryptic nonsense and dramatic entries and exits increase as time progressed? If so, I was going to hate my new condition with fervent passion. Fortunately, the rest of my night was undisturbed, as were the nights and days that followed. I spent that time thinking, wondering about my current predicament, and time flowed like a dream, and Saturday was upon me with an unexpected sunrise. The Consilium meeting was in the afternoon, so Enoch decided to brief me in-depth on the exact nature of Consilium meetings after breakfast.

"Typically, Consilium meetings are held twice a month here to settle any disputes between cabals and individual Awakened, concerns involving the Lex Magica, and other such trifles that might arise. As as Councilor, it is my job to arbitrate such disputes. This afternoon's focus will be you, and you will recount your experiences with Daniel to the rest of the Allentown's mage community at large."

"I understand that I will be the center of the meeting, but I fail to understand why I must address so many. Couldn't you or some other Councilor brief the others just as well?" I argued. I refused to stand in front of only-God-knows how many much more-experienced mages and give what amounted to an origin story. It was just plain embarrassing.

"I certainly agree with you on that point, but the Hierarch himself has requested that you do so. His reasoning was since you are one of the only one of us to have encountered Daniel and spent a great deal of time close to him, learning from him. He believes it would be beneficial to hear your perspective on the matter."

And, with one fell swoop, my hopes were crushed. From what I gathered at the time, the Hierarch was one of the most influential mages within the community, and there wasn't a chance in hell I would be able to weasel and argue my way out of this predicament. I swallowed my ego and sighed in reluctant agreement. I would speak to the whole Consilium as requested, but I would not enjoy it.

"Moving on, I have to ask. Who is Eliphas? I'm assuming you know him."

Councilor Enoch regarded me with a raised eyebrow and a rather incredulous look in his eyes.

"Eliphas? Yes I do know him; he's one of my junior Guardians. I placed him in charge of your guard detail in my absence. I figured you two would meet eventually."

"i see." It was hardly a comforting thought.

The rest of our conversation was Counilor Enoch educating me in the proper etiquette of Consilium meetings, lest I inadvertantly make a fool of myself and him. He made it rather clear that if such a faux pas occurred, he would punish me somehow. No doubt it involved that Eliphas fellow. Regardless of any aforementioned threats, I was to be questioned by the Concilors and the Hierarch before the entire Consilium of Allentown, and I would plead my case. My fate would be determined by the council's decision.

The preparations were well and done, Councilor Enoch and I departed the Atlantic Hotel. I was not prepared for what fate had held in store for us.


End file.
